by Trevallion
They made a slow passage up the curving staircase. Anna could hear voices coming from the den and once or twice laughter. Mrs. Peveril, if she heard, made no comment, but at her own door she unexpectedly gave Anna a hasty peck on the forehead.
"Goodnight, my dear," she said. "Don't mind having spoken your mind on the terrace this evening. I liked you for it. You'd not do badly for a granddaughter, after all. Goodnight."
CHAPTER X
It was a little cooler the next day, but Anna felt drained of vitality, and her eyes were heavy with the sleep which had been denied her, for Ruth had come to her room after David had gone the night before and talked untd the small hours.
"Shall we bathe this morning?" Anna suggested after breakfast. The day, for her, seemed to stretch rather endlessly ahead. Ruth was going in to Merrynporth in the afternoon to choose her ring with David, and there would be no one but Birdie to keep her company until Rick came home in the evening.
"Yes, let's," Ruth said with alacrity, wishing to avoid the inevitable summons to her grandmother's room. She gave Anna a sudden, unexpected hug. "Dear Anna ... if it hadn't been for you . . . I—I hope you'll be happy with Rick."
Did happiness lie with the Peverils? Anna wondered as they made their way down to the shore. Could she be happy with Rick when she knew so little where his affections lay? There had been times, of late, when she had surprised tenderness in him, moments when she had thought he might cherish a little fondness for her, but remembering him with Ruth last night, she knew now that there was gentleness in him for anyone whom he thought he had misjudged.
Anna found herself impatient of Ruth's well-meant efforts to improve her swimming, and presently she retired to her favourite pool and told the girl to swim alone, unhampered by a novice. She watched Ruth, poised on the diving rock, a sharp reminder of Alix; she watched her swim far out to sea with easy, powerful strokes, and meditated on the miraculous results of the release of the mind on the body. In the water, Ruth had always lost her ungainliness, but today there was a fresh confidence in all her actions. She knew herself to
be desired and the knowledge showed itself in a dozen different ways.
Dear Ruth . . . thought Anna with sudden affection, and then saw Alix, poised on the diving rock, spring into the air in a beautiful curving dive and strike out to join that other swimmer in the distance.
They came in together, shaking the water from their hair, the two dark Peverils looking like Amazons with their finely proportioned limbs, and the wet bathing suits clinging to their firm, full breasts.
"Quite a performance!" said Anna, conscious of her own meagre proportions which could never compete with theirs.
"You still stick to your safe pools, I see," Alix said, stretching out on a warm rock to dry.
"Anna's coming along very nicely," said Ruth. "Next year she should be able to swim with Rick."
"Really? If I know Rick, he won't be bothered with children lacking in stamina," Alix said. "But then, I don't suppose he'll mind that, will he, Anna?"
"Rick is scarcely marrying Anna for her feats of endurance," retorted Ruth, reaching for a towel.
"No, I suppose not. Incidentally, I believe I should congratulate you, Ruth. I hear the local vet has actually been brought up to scratch."
Ruth reddened and sat with her back to Alix. "Where do you hear these things?" she answered gruffly. "It only happened last night." "Rick told me." "Rick?"
"Yes, he called in on his way to the quarry this morning. He often calls in, you know." Ruth looked sideways at Anna.
"At that hour of the morning!" she said. "You wouldn't be up!"
"No, probably not, but Rick is used to us all in varying states of attire—or shouldn't I be saying that in front of Anna?"
"Alix—you're-" Ruth began, but Anna interrupted.
"Why not?" she said. "You were all brought up together, weren't you?"
"Oh, yes," said Alix. "I'm glad you see the distinction, Anna. What a thing you've made for the Peverils, haven't you? Egging Ruth on to extremes, and sitting smugly criticizing us all."
"That's not true!" said Ruth. "If it hadn't been for Anna-" .
"If it hadn't been for Anna," said Alix softly, "quite a few changes wouldn't have taken place at Trevallion, would they?"
"You can't blame Anna for that," said Ruth. "Rick brought her here and I, for one, am glad she came."
"How nice, darling," Alix said. "Perhaps I should be glad too—or shouldn't I, Anna?"
"I don't know," said Anna, feeling, as always, that Alix, whatever the argument, would always have the last word.
"Of course you do!" Alix exclaimed with contemptuous impatience. "How do you expect me to be glad when Rick tries to put you in my place?"
"Alix!" said Ruth. "Shut up!"
"Ruth, darling, I thought you were on my side," Alix said, with mock reproach. "Have you transferred your allegiance to Anna overnight?"
"You never," said Ruth unexpectedly, "cared twopence about my allegiance. I think I'm beginning to know you, Alix."
"But, darling-" Alix began, leaning over to pull Ruth
closer, but Ruth moved further away on her rock.
"You can't have it all ways, Alix," she said. "Even the Peverils can't have it all ways."
Alix gave her a long look. Even to Anna, who had no cause to love Alix, there was something a little heart-breaking in that dawning expression of acceptance. So she thought, even the gods could fall so lighdy from their pedestals and be forgotten.
"We'd better be getting back for lunch," she said prosaically,
"Will you stop at the cottage and have a snack with me?" Alix asked, looking at Ruth.
"No, thank you," Ruth replied carelessly. "We're expected at home, and afterwards I'm going into Merrynporth."
"Oh! To visit the new fiance, I don't doubt," said Alix caustically, and began to collect her clothes. "Well, Ruth, my dear, I hope everyone's doing the best for you. I can't think that life being married to a small-town vet holds out many prospects, but I suppose you know your own mind."
"Yes," said Ruth with a rather lovely look of certainty, "I know my own mind. Shall we go, Anna?"
They left Alix still sitting on the rock, pulling her clothes impatiently over her head. Ruth went up the cliff path with never a backward glance, but Anna, perhaps because her own emotions were raw and easily bruised, gave the figure on the rocks a last, compassionate glance. It would not be nice, she thought, for someone of Alix's easy conquests, to lose an allegiance which had stretched from childhood.
"Should we ask her back to the house, do you think?" she enquired of Ruth as they made their way up the cliff path.
"Why should we?" Ruth replied without pausing to look back. "Don't be a fool, Anna! Alix doesn't greatly care. Don't you know she will oust you with Rick if she possibly can?"
Yes, Anna thought, she knew it. She knew, too, that Alix, perhaps because she was herself a Peveril, had something for Rick that she could never give.
When Rick came home in the evening, only Anna was on the terrace. He observed her shrewdly and remarked that she did not look well.
"I'm very well," she said briskly. "It's been cooler today."
"What have you done with yourself?"
"We bathed in the morning. Alex was there, too."
"Oh?"
"Ruth's gone into Merrynporth to choose her ring with
David. She'll be back for dinner. Rick—" she was remembering him last night, comforting Ruth, making the whole unhappy business into something normal and pleasant—"you were so nice last night. Ruth has been a different person."
"Didn't you think I could be human, then?" he asked wryly.
"Of course, but-"
"But the Peverils, as a family, have got you down?"
"They have a bit. I—I—what is there for us, Rick?"
He mixed a drink for her and set the glass at her elbow.
"What do you expect?" he asked a little harshly. "Raptures . . . avowals ... or just
the plain routine of living?"
"I don't expect anything," she said, and he ruffled her hair in passing, before sitting down opposite her with his own drink.
"Wise Anna," he said, his voice mocking again. "You won't be disappointed, then, will you?"
"I suppose not," she said. "Rick—about Birdie-"
He frowned.
"Birdie is a fixture, I'm afraid," he said. "Does his presence here worry you, Anna?"
"No—no, of course not. But he wants to be independent." "Birdie independent!"
"Yes, he wants a place of his own. He thought when Alix went he might have the cowman's cottage and work off the rent, but he's worried about his food. He says he has no money and has always worked here for his keep. If he's paying off rent with his work, he is wondering how he'll manage to eat."
Rick looked at her long and thoughtfully.
"Birdie, too?" he said. "How strange that it should be you, Anna, to point the way. Ruth and now Birdie...."
"But he can have the cottage?"
"Why not? It'll stand empty, otherwise. How would you suggest we get over poor Birdie's difficulty in the matter of eating?"
"By paying him a wage, of course," said Anna promptly,
and saw, then, he was laughing at her.
"You didn't need me to suggest that," she said, feeling a little foolish.
"No, I didn't. All the same, I'm grateful for your concern with our family, Anna. You'd soon have us all where you want us, I think."
"Am I interfering?" she asked humbly, and saw an odd look of tenderness in his eyes.
"No, you ridiculous child!" he said. "You merely fre-quently surprise me."
"Do I, Rick?" She sounded wistful and almost forlorn, and he sipped his drink, watching her with amusement over the rim of his glass.
"Yes, you do. One of these days, I may surprise you," he said. "Have you forgotten about that young airman?"
"Toby?" She considered, thinking how far away that old affair seemed. In that London square, while the plane flew over and Rick Peveril stood and watched her weeping, it had seemed like the end of her world. Now, barely three months later, she could think of Toby without regret and watch a plane dy across the skies, scarcely remembering.
"I must be very fickle," she said guiltily.
He smiled. "Not fickle—just young," he said. "Didn't I tell you at the time that affairs of that sort were two a penny? You didn't believe me, then. What do you suppose has cured you so quickly?"
He saw the delicate colour rise under her skin but before she could form a suitable reply, Mrs. Peveril had joined them on the terrace.
"When is that young man coming to pay his respects?" she demanded, settling carefully into her chair.
"Tomorrow for dinner," Rick told her firmly. "And it's no use you being on your high horse with him, Grand. He's part of the family, now."
"Part of the family! Really, Rick, you have very strange ideas of setting about things!"
"Anna would agree with you."
"Anna? It's scarcely for someone outside the family to quarrel with the way we choose to live."
"I hope she doesn't quarrel, at any rate, with me," Rick said, smiling. "And I also hope you've accepted her as a granddaughter at long last."
"Granddaughters . . . grandsons ... all thrust upon me whether I like it or not," she grumbled, but her eyes resting on Anna were softer than usual. "I trust you're pleased with yourself, miss? You've done a deal of reorganizing since you've been at Trevallion."
"Oh, no, Mrs. Peveril!" Anna exclaimed, horrified, and saw the glance of amusement the old lady exchanged with her grandson.
"Oh, well," Mrs. Peveril observed, closing her eyes, "the old expect to go to the wall in the end."
"Not you, Grand!" laughed Rick. "You'll die fighting, if anyone will! Did you know Birdie has always coveted the cowman's cottage?"
The old eyes flew open.
"Birdie?" How absurd!" she said. "How does he think he'd manage on his own after all these years?" "Anna will tell you."
"Anna? Is this more of your handiwork, my brash child?"
But Anna was no longer alarmed. She explained about Birdie, just as she had done to Rick, and saw Mrs. Peveril's eyes on her, watchful, attentive and, somehow, regretful.
"One forgets . . ." she said, and her voice took them both back into the past, "one forgets the passionate desire to lead one's own life. ... I remember when I came here as a girl. . . . But that was different, I suppose. ... I, a Peveril, married a Peveril ... my life was my own from that day on____"
Ruth came out of the house and looked a little apprehensively at her grandmother. She had changed into a clean dress and her hair was neatly done. She bent over Mrs. Peveril and kissed her awkwardly. "You didn't send for me, Grand," she said.
The old lady looked up at her and put out one of her large, ring-laden hands.
"Were you expecting me to send for you, Ruth?" she asked, but tonight there was no bite in her voice: "No, my dear, what's done is done. I can't pretend that your young man is what I would have chosen for you, but then Anna tells us we never made any effort to find someone suitable. Have your drink. Dinner will be ready very shortly."
It was as close, Anna knew, as the old lady would ever come to giving her blessing to the engagement, but she saw the pleasure in Ruth's eyes, the momentary grin that Rick gave her, and knew that these three might look forward to a better understanding in the future.
It was nearly the end of August. After the dry summer the garden had begun to look bleached and parched and even the giant yew hedge from which Birdie's topiary was fashioned looked dry and lifeless. The gorse was over now and the bracken which grew on the cliffs and the untendered stretches of wasteland was already beginning to turn.
"The country seems to be changing overnight," Anna said, watching Sol stack wood in the yard against the coming winter.
"Aye," he said. "One of they gales from the Atlantic and 'twill be autumn. Leaves are too brittle to stay long on the tree."
Anna shivered.
"But September can be such a lovely month," she said regretfully. "Are the winters severe here, Sol?"
"Sometimes—though, mind you, 'tes a warmer part of the country than most" He glanced at her with a mischievous look in his close-set eyes.
"September will still be a lovely month for you, missy, you'm getting married," he said slyly.
Yes, thought Anna, walking away, she would be married to Rick, and Sol and even the disagreeable Rebecca would come to her for orders; the girls, although chosen by
Rebecca, would be subject to her approval and the running of Rick's household in her hands, for Ruth would not be there to attend to matters with which old Mrs Peveril no longer concerned herself.
"I wish," Anna said to Rick, "I knew more about running a house. I've always lived in a hostel, you see."
"Rebecca won't thank you if you try to run Trevallion," he retorted a little unkindly.
"Rebecca doesn't like me."
"Rebecca cares only for my grandmother. For heaven's sake, Anna, be thankful you haven't to look forward to a dreary round of chores and domesticity!"
He sounded impatient and she knew she had struck a false note. Not for Rick were the casual meals on trays, the shared disasters of burnt cookery, the failure of the daily help to turn up when most needed. She could, she thought, have established a personality in the sort of life she had expected to share with Toby, but with Rebecca in the kitchen and old Mrs. Peveril upstairs, how could she be anything more than Rick's wife, a guest in his house?
"I'd thought-" she began despondendy. "Well, I'd like
to be of use."
He looked at her with a flash of understanding.
"You'll be of use, my dear," he said gently. "If I'd simply wanted a housekeeper, I wouldn't have picked you, would I?"
"You didn't pick me in the first place with the idea of marrying me," she reminded him. "Anyone would have done, you said, then."
"Did I? Well
, Anna, things have altered a great deal since the beginning of the summer. Are you having last-minute regrets?"
"No," she said, aware that he was on edge. For the last week it had seemed that he was controding impatience. Anna wondered if she was at fault or if it was the imminence of Alix's departure from the cottage that had caused him to return to his old brusqueness of manner.
Alix seldom came up to the house now, but they would
meet her on the shore or along the cliffs, and, as far as Anna could judge, she still had made no attempt to pack up. Rick was working late at the quarry most evenings now. If he called at the cottage on his way home he never mentioned the fact, but Anna sometimes saw light stream out as the door of the cottage opened and shut late at night, and often the household at Trevallion had gone to bed before he finally let himself in.
Anna could not bring herself to ask him if he had seen Alix; neither could she dismiss from her mind Alix's own words that evening at the cottage.
"Rick has always been one to cut off his nose to spite his face, but I still have a few cards of my own to play," she had said.
Anna sat through the long evenings, watching Birdie and Mrs. Peveril play piquet, and listening for the sound of Rick's footsteps in the hall.
"What's the matter with you?" Ruth asked her once. "You seem rather mopey." She was seldom at home herself in the evenings, now.
"Rick's been working late most nights this week," Anna said apologetically.
"You'd better get used to that. When there's a rush on for orders he often works late."
The date of their wedding was fixed for mid-September; they were to honeymoon in Spain and return to Trevallion at the beginning of October when Ruth was hoping to have her own wedding. The prospect was still slightly unreal to Anna and she sometimes looked with doubtful eyes at that meagre trousseau which had been bought for Toby. Could one travel across Spain in such flimsy trifles, she wondered? Would the more sober but also rather shabby clothes she had worn to the office be suitable for boat and train?
In the end it did not seem to matter. She would, perhaps, never marry Rick. A foreboding that something would prevent the wedding began to grow irrationally in her mind and one morning, early, she got Alix's note. One of the girls brought it up with the morning tea, and
